


Wanted Undead or Alive

by Cat_Moon



Series: Half Breed: Season Two [14]
Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flashback short story, where we find out what Josef and Shane were up to in the old west, in 1873.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanted Undead or Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in my HB universe, but in the past. Title by Josef Muse (he thinks he’s amusing).  
> Summary: Just another story from Josef and Shane’s past that they shared with me.
> 
> No clothes were harmed in the making of this story. ;)

  
**Wyoming Territory, 1873**  
  
  
Night claimed the untamed wilderness. In the distance, a coyote howled. All was still.  
  
The man on horseback remained motionless, yet his eyes were scanning the shadows, his hearing and smell cast out. After several minutes of concentration, he found what he was looking for. Heartbeat and breathing, and always the enticing smell of blood… He’d easily tracked the men to their camp, about a mile away. There would be a lookout, the others asleep and oblivious to the predator in their midst. Easy pickings for a vampire bounty hunter.  
  
He dismounted a half mile away and crept closer on foot. Silently sneaking up behind the lookout, he reached out and snapped the man’s neck before he even knew anyone was there. After having his fill of the blood, he left the corpse for the other animals prowling the night for a meal.  
  
He stepped into the camp, shaking his head at the sight of the snoring outlaws. He collected their guns, and then fired his own into the air to get their attention. At the sound, the five men startled awake, their instincts impelling them to grab for weapons that were no longer in reach.  
  
“Okay boys, put your hands where I can see ‘em, and I won’t be forced to shoot ya. The reward says dead or alive, so I don’t much care either way.”  
  
With no choice, the gang raised their hands in surrender.  
  
He waved the gun in the direction of the horses. “Get your stuff together. Time to leave.”  
  
“Where’s the rest of the posse?” the leader of the gang, Willy Penn, asked.  
  
“I’m a one man posse,” he told Willy with a smile.  
  
“You’re Morgan, ain’t ya?” The bounty hunter had a reputation for being especially good at his job. In fact, rumor had it there wasn’t any escaping from him.  
  
“You’ve heard of me, I’m so thrilled,” he responded with fake sweetness, before his voice hardened. “Move it.”  
  
As they broke camp, one of the outlaws kept glancing around at the shadows. Finally he could keep silent no longer. “Where’s Carl?” he asked, getting a hard jab of elbow in his side from Willy for tipping Morgan off.  
  
“Who?” Morgan asked innocently. “I didn’t see no one.”  
  
Poor bastards probably spend the next several miles expecting Carl to ambush him and rescue them.  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   


  
The St. Charles Hotel was an upscale establishment in those days, a favorite of politicians and those whom fortune had smiled upon. Brett Morgan was well known to them, so the appearance of the man without a suit and with five pounds of trail dirt on him raised no eyebrows. He paid for the room and a bath, and headed upstairs.  
  
Theodore Sanders was also a familiar face, occasionally meeting with Morgan there. He was a wealthy member of the San Francisco Mining Exchange. His tailored suit was as impeccable as his credentials. The St. Charles didn’t care that San Francisco’s bankers looked down on the members because they made their fortunes by placing spies in the mining camps who alerted them when gold or silver was struck; his money was good and he wasn’t stingy about spending it, and that’s all they needed to know.

  
  
XXX

  
  
Josef opened the door of the hotel room without bothering to knock. There was no need, the vampire inside would already know he was there. Stepping inside the room, he stopped dead at the unexpected but definitely not unpleasant sight that greeted him: a naked Shane reclining in the tub.  
  
Enjoying the simmer of arousal that had already started, Josef was content to stand there silently and take in the view, while his mind conjured up visions of the night ahead.  
  
After a few moments Shane raised questioning eyebrows at him, then his gaze slid down to crotch level. His smile was slow and lazy and raised the temperature all by itself. The silence between them continued, adding to the anticipation.  
  
Josef turned and locked the door, then reached over to extinguish the lamp. After a glance at the window to be sure the curtains were drawn, he started undressing, aware of Shane’s appreciative gaze following his every movement. When he too was naked he stepped closer, giving Shane a hand out of the tub. When the other vampire reached for the towel that was draped over a nearby chair, he shook his head, keeping hold of the hand.  
  
“Aren’t you gonna let me dry off first?” he asked in an amused voice.  
  
“I want you wet,” Josef growled, pulling Shane’s body into his, relishing the feel of the cold wet skin against his dry one.  
  
Their mouths found each other, tongues eagerly getting reacquainted. Someone pulled, someone pushed, they weren’t quite sure who did what, but only the end result mattered anyway. They fell onto the bed and tussled for a bit, snarling and nipping like playful puppies while the arousal steadily built between them.  
  
Josef maneuvered them so that Shane was underneath him, on his stomach. “I believe it’s your turn,” he murmured into the ear under his mouth, amusement lacing his tone. Ever since they had accidentally noticed that they seemed to have an unconscious habit of taking turns bottoming, it had become a source of amusement for them. It was an arrangement that worked well for both; all manner of sexual acts could be and were indulged in with women, this one a less common treat.  
  
“Work for it,” Shane challenged.  
  
Josef obliged, his tongue trailing a meandering path from the ear down the middle of his back. Reaching the inviting ass, he lingered, his fangs placing nips on the smooth cheeks, tongue swiping the pinpoints of blood that welled there.  
  
When Shane was shifting restlessly on the bed, Josef slipped his tongue in between them, teasing, pushing in slightly before withdrawing again, each time going a bit further. He kept up the sweet torture until Shane was groaning and biting the pillow to stifle the sounds.  
  
Josef leaned over him again, sticking his tongue into an ear before whispering. “Good thing you don’t need to breathe, you’d have suffocated by now,” he quipped. “Where’s the stuff?”  
  
Shane’s arm rose, gesturing vaguely toward the table by the bed. Josef grabbed the bottle he found there and applied some of the oil to his erection, stroking himself a few times before pouring more oil onto his hand and sliding slippery fingers inside Shane. He enjoyed touching Shane like this, fingers stretching and playing and reaching to hit that especially sensitive spot…  
  
A muffled growl that he interpreted as “fuck me now!” followed. Happy to oblige, Josef grabbed Shane’s hips and guided himself into the waiting body. The time for teasing was done; now he gave himself over to the passion, fucking with long, hard strokes as they fell into their old familiar rhythm.  
  
Shane reached a hand under his body, attempting to jerk himself off, but being pounded into the mattress made that difficult. He shoved back, meeting the thrusts into him, movements becoming more desperate as the pleasure built.  
  
After almost three hundred years they knew each other’s bodies like a book and this was Josef’s favorite chapter, the part where he felt the impending orgasm rise up through Shane’s body. He was so intent on the other vampire that his own almost caught him by surprise. As it crashed through him, he sank his fangs into Shane’s shoulder. Ten seconds later Shane’s followed.  
  
Shane rolled over onto his back, spitting out feathers.  
  
Josef laughed at the sight. “Remember that night out in the desert? We scared every animal away within fifty miles.”  
  
“Rode hard and put away wet as I recall.” Shane stretched his long frame out on the bed, looking relaxed and well-fucked. Josef couldn’t help himself from watching his movements with interest. He kept wondering when it would wane but the centuries passed and it never seemed to.  
  
“You’re the one who’d rather play cowboy out here in the wilderness than live in style in San Francisco,” Josef reminded him. “The girls miss you,” he said pointedly. “And Sunny from the opium den is always asking about you.” The fact that Josef missed him too was left unspoken. Staying in one place too long wasn’t the Viking way; Shane was a rolling stone. As long as Josef was his home port he didn’t mind. And it had definitely led them to some interesting adventures together. Life around Shane was never boring.  
  
“Not a cowboy, I’m a bounty hunter,” Shane corrected.  
  
“Speaking of…” Josef held out his hand, palm up.  
  
Shane reached under the bed and pulled a satchel from underneath. Opening it, he took out several hundred dollars in cash and handed them to Josef.  
  
Josef flipped through the bills, quickly counting them with the skill of an expert. “You’d get rich quicker if you gave me more,” he commented, as he rose from the bed and transferred the money to his own bag.  
  
“Yeah, but I need a stake for poker.”  
  
“Playing poker with humans.” Josef shook his head sadly, his expression telegraphing his view of that pastime.  
  
With a vampire’s acute senses, it was relatively easy to spot the bluffers from the ones who had a real hand and made them particularly good poker players against human opponents. Shane could also spot the cheaters – but the last thing a vamp wanted was to call too much attention to himself by getting into an altercation with a cheater. Therefore, he didn’t always win.  
  
“Shall we head down to the bar? Have a drink and find ourselves a bite to eat?” Shane asked, showing fang.  
  
“Lead on, Daniel Boone.”  
  
  
  
3/19/09  


**Author's Note:**

> From Time Magazine online:  
> When the San Francisco Mining Exchange was launched in the gold-rush days a century ago, the city's strait-laced bankers had a name for it and its 40 roughshod members: "Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves." The handle fit. Fortunes were made with dizzying speed, partly because the exchange's secret scouts in the mining camps telegraphed the word−in code−whenever gold or silver was struck.
> 
> Does that sound like something Josef would be into, or what?! 
> 
> Josef's alias: (name meanings)  
> Theodore: gift of God  
> Sanders: son of Alexander


End file.
